Page 11 of The Seduction of Lord Sin
“I’m expecting him on the morrow,” Flora replied. “He’s taking our children to his mother’s before joining us.”
Lord Hapley moved to greet Flora, as Charlotte crossed to greet Lord Bann and Lord Toobury, the first men to arrive this morning. They must have been staying nearby. “Lord Bann, Lord Toobury. I suspect the fishing will be your draw card. The river is simply teeming, I’ve been told.”
The men bowed to her. Bann saying, “I’m looking forward to all the amusements you have planned.” She eyed him in surprise. The innuendo present in his voice was obvious to all in the room, and her face heated. She’d never taken Lord Bann to be so forward. He must direly need her money indeed.
Not offering any encouragement or reply, she turned towards Lord Sanders and Lord Travis. Sanders was the eldest of the group, and not really in dun territory, so it surprised her he had come. He must be here simply to attend a house party. Most likely, he attended out of boredom. “My lords. Lord Travis, how is your mother? I heard she has not been well.”
“She is much better, thank you. I’m thrilled to be here for your house party.”
“And Lord Sanders. You must be tired. It’s a long journey from York.”
Sanders also took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Never too far to travel for you, my lady. But I declare the fishing is a certain draw card.”
She almost choked on his words. He’d never given her the time of day when she was a debutante. She pulled her hand free and turned away, his hypocrisy almost wiping him off the list before the house party had begun.
Baron Vernonte coughed as he moved to her side. The Baron didn’t need her money, but he wanted the connections her title and relationship with Tobin would bring. He too, was a widower with plenty of children and the eldest man here. That put him right down her list.
“Is Lord Clayton not joining us this week?”
“I’m afraid not, Baron.” Her words were rewarded with a scowl.
Just then, a familiar face appeared from behind Sanders and her mood lifted. Lord Devlin. She felt a twinge of guilt.Did he want to be here?
“Lottie.” He ignored her hand and showed his competitors how familiar he was with her by pressing a swift kiss to each cheek. She’d barely recovered from the effects of Devlin’s masculine scent when Lord Sinclair came into view.
Freshly bathed and dressed in a jacket of the finest burgundy wool that fitted like a glove and showcased broad shoulders, he looked so handsome.
Her breath lodged like a chicken bone in her throat, and her brain turned to mush. He was her dream Prince, her fantasy, and he was standing in her house looking at her with sin in his eyes. She had to lock her knees to stop herself from collapsing to the floor.
His Grace stepped forward and bowed over her hand. “Lady Charlotte, I hope the ankle is feeling better. I see you can manage without the cane.” When his lips pressed against her glove, her heart almost stopped.
Her tongue seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth. Finally, she said, “I’m well on the road to recovery, thank you.”
He straightened, and she had to look up, and up… “Splendid. I was hoping during my stay to trouble you for a dance.” And then he smiled.
Heaven on earth, he was gorgeous. Warm, meadow green eyes sparkled at her from on high and his handsome chiseled features looked as if the hand of God had personally bestowed them.
Goodness, she hadn’t heard a word the man was saying to her. So she merely smiled and nodded. Before, thank goodness, Toobury vied for her attention.
She turned away and tried to settle her racing heart. How on earth was she to concentrate on making a sound decision as to a future husband with His Grace under foot? He would not be interested in her unless she confessed all. She would simply have to encourage him to leave. That shouldn’t be difficult, especially when he learned what this week was really about.
She moved round the room reveling in the fact that, for once, she was the center of attention, or at least her money was. The mood was light, and most of the men she’d selected appeared genuinely happy to be here. She had just finished regaling Sanders with the event list for the coming week, especially regarding the archery match tomorrow afternoon, when her unwanted extra spoke the one question every man here had likely already guessed the answer to.
“My dear, Lady Charlotte. When are the ladies and other guests joining us?”
The room fell silent. She heard her pride hit the floor.
Let’s see if the truth sends you running, Your Grace.She lifted her head and gazed directly into his eyes. “There are no other guests, Lord Sinclair. I was very particular about my invitations. I am interested in remarrying and my guests are here because they are desirous of a match. By the end of the house party, I shall make my decision.”
She watched surprise fill his eyes, and then humor, and finally the one thing she hated most—pity.
* * *
Devlin was a dead man. Why on earth had his friend not told him it was a men only house party? Scandalous really, but he admired the barren widow’s determination to marry again. He understood why she’d have to go to such lengths. Men in their social positions needed children.
This was a weeklong house party, masquerading as a business meeting, and his hackles rose. She’d handpicked potential husbands, and this week was to see who suited best. Why did this concept upset him so? It was the norm to hand select a marriage partner. He was in the process of doing the same thing.
Devlin must have asked him along for mere moral support, or was he to be the distraction? Was his friend using him, hoping Lady Charlotte didn’t choose Devlin? He could honestly say he would not find it a hardship to distract Lady Charlotte.
